


On Your Knees

by americalovesthecockpit



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: America's POV, M/M, Smut, USUK - Freeform, lulz, religous!America, sodomite!England
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:13:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americalovesthecockpit/pseuds/americalovesthecockpit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sodomite England wants extremely religious!America very desperately. But buttsex isn't easy when America is so very homophobic. Jesus is such a cockblock sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Just to warn everyone, this fic is about a very religious, Christian version of America. Kind of like an AU, except everything is the same but religious!America. If you are easily offended by the mocking of religion (specifically Christianity) I do not recommend reading.
> 
> Additionally, because this version of America is homophobic, he says a lot of anti-gay remarks. So again, if this offends you, do not read. They're not serious as I'm actually making fun of homophobia in this story, but I wanted to warn anyway just in case. His beliefs are certainly not my own!
> 
> Written in America's POV!

It was Saturday night.

Germany and Prussia were out somewhere drinking Satan's breast milk. (They call it beer.)

France was out chasing women. And men. Anything that moves, really. Actually, it doesn't even need to move, probably. I could see him doing a bean bag chair or something. Filthy lecher.

Japan was at his house pleasuring himself to cartoon porn. Yes, cartoon. That he drew himself. I mean, pornography is wrong in and of itself, but I don't even get the cartoon part. They just remind me of Pokemons! Team Rocket didn't blast off like that. Creepy pervert.

And Russia … well, I don't really know what Russia was up to that Saturday night. And since it's Russia, I want to keep it that way. That sinfulness should be very much kept between him and God. I sleep better not knowing what things he does with that water pipe!

I don't know what Canada was doing either but whatever. It's just Canada, who cares. I bet even God asks who he is when he prays, haha!

What was I doing on a Saturday night, you wonder? I was home alone, sitting on the floor of my living room, acoustic guitar in hand. I was finishing up writing my song about the importance of abstinence. It was for the children. Children love abstinence!

I was chewing on my pen, trying very hard to think of a word that rhymed with 'fornicate' when I heard a knock at the door. It was the middle of the night! 8:30 PM! Who on God's great white Earth could it be?

I set aside my guitar to answer it. When I opened the door, England fell into my arms, because apparently he had been using the door to stand.

"My goodness!" I exclaimed. "England, what's wrong?"

England was snickering. He looked pretty rough. His tie was unbuttoned, his clothes were wrinkly, his face was flushed, he stank like … oh, now it made sense! He'd been drinking!

"Take good care of him, America!" called a voice with a French accent. That was France, if it wasn't obvious. I looked up to see him leaning out the window of a car. With him were a couple ladies of the evening. Read: HARLOTS.

"Gosh darn it!" Please excuse my vulgarity, you guys. "GOSH DARN IT ALL TO HECK! France, why would you let England get this drunk? ! And then dump him on me? !"

"I don't want him spoiling my evening! I met some lovely ladies here." He motioned to the women, who looked like painted up whores.

Painted up AMERICAN whores. "Quit fornicating with my women!" I yelled back.

"No thanks," he said. "I like yours. Zey actually shave!" He was rolling the window up. "Ta-ta, America!" Then he sped off, cackling. Which made me mad. Because it was bad enough that he'd dropped off a drunkard at my house so that he could have sinful premarital sex with multiple women … but to speed too? ! I mean, speeding is a terrible sin. It even says so in the Bible, I'm pretty sure. 'And ye shall never approach speeds over that which are determined by thy governing state, lest ye be judged' … or something, I dunno. Shut up, it's in there. Trust me.

England was still leaning on me. He was starting to lose his balance and slide down me, so I caught him and held him. He snickered again.

"Heh heh … America … I am so pissed …"

"What?" I said, confused. "Why are you mad? I'm the one who should be mad here!"

"Nooooo …" he whined. "Pissed … it means … shit, what is it your country says … 'drunk.'"

"Then you shouldn't have gone out drinking!"

His fingers were really digging into my shirt to hold on. Almost all his weight was against me. I sniffed and smelt the alcohol on him. Ugh, it was rank. Then, I guess because he saw me do it, England leaned into me and sniffed. Like really intensely. Took a big whiff, looked up with me with eyes that weren't fully open, and said, "Mmmm … yeah."

So with that, I promptly dumped him on the couch. I mean, that almost seemed gay! And I do not swing that way!

England didn't mind being tossed like that. He chuckled and did his best to sit up, but he was pretty drunk, so he leaned back against the cushions.

"You need to stay there until you sober up!" I said, standing over him and wagging my finger accusingly. "What were you thinking? Going out and getting drunk? Don't you know how bad that stuff is for you? Remember what it says in the Bible. 'Though shall not imbibe. No spirits shall pass your lips, even Seabreezes, Mike's Hard Lemonade, and Bahama Mamas, or ye shall drink in Hell.' I think that's … Corinthians or something, I can't remember."

"Shhhh," he shhhed.

"DON'T YOU SHHHH ME!" I exclaimed. "IT ALSO SAYS IN THE BIBLE NOT TO SHHH ME!"

I didn't like the way England was smirking. "Just … come're." He waved me over with one finger.

"For what?"

Now I didn't like the way England was looking at me. "I think you know what."

"I don't." I started to turn away. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go back to writing my song. Maybe if you listen you'll learn something while you sit there and think about what you've done."

"No, wait!" England called. "Don't leave!"

I faced him again. "What is it, England?"

So then he just blurted it out.

"I'm horny."

Somehow I had a feeling it was going to come to that. I just didn't wanna admit it out loud.

I sighed. "Well, this calls for only one thing then," I said. "I think you know what I mean."

"Yeah?" He squirmed a little more. "You're serious?"

"Um, duh, I'm serious," I said as I got on my knees.

I'd never seen him grin as wide as when I got down on my knees like that. "Oh damn," he said, fiddling with his zipper. "I knew I'd crack you one day."

"CHEESE AND CRACKERS, ENGLAND!" I exclaimed. "WHAT THE GOSH DARN HECK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? !"

He looked hurt. "You're … you're not gonna suck my dick?"

"Um, NO! Gross!" Didn't England see that my hands were clasped together? And not in … whatever way they look when they grab a penis? (Whatever way that is. I'm not gay so I wouldn't know, of course!) "I was getting ready to pray for you!"

"Pray for me?" England was getting all huffy. "There are better things you can do with that mouth …"

"SHUT UP WHILE I'M PRAYING!" I snapped. Then I bowed my head. "Dear Lord, forgive England for his sins. He knows not what he does …"

England rolled his eyes. "Oh, here it goes …"

"… because he's stupid. So you gotta forgive him. I mean, it's your job, anyway, right God? I don't think you have much of a choice, haha!"

"That's how you pray?" England was so annoying making dumb little comments during my prayer! So disrespectful, am I right?

"Anyway, God," I continued praying. "Please give him the strength to stop drinking. Give him the strength to resist temptation, embrace temperance, and quit going to TGI Friday's happy hour."

"They have good drinks," England slurred. "And it's not happy hour, that's only Mondays through Fridays."

"Well, you would know, huh!" I snapped back, then bowed my head again. "Sorry for that rude interruption, Lord. Where were we? Oh yeah. England's sinnin'. Also please forgive him for being a sodomite."

"Now wait a minute!" England interrupted angrily.

But he didn't get to continue because I shhhed him. "Shhh, England! It's bad enough you're a gay drunk, but do you gotta interrupt my praying too? I mean, you're probably going to Hell but better not push your luck, ya know?" Anyway, back to my prayer: "Dear Lord, please give him the strength to resist all those penises out there. I know he wants them and all but please fill him with your love instead all of those penises. And it's gonna need to be a LOT of love to fill that hole -"

"Enough!" shouted England. "America, I don't know what you think of me, but I am not like that!"

"Oh, come on. I'm sure you get sodomized like every day."

"Sodomized? Really?" England scoffed. "People still use that word?"

"I noticed you didn't correct me."

"It is not every day -"

"NO BUT YOU WISH IT WAS!" I bowed my head again to continue my prayer. "Also, God, I want an iPhone 4S – that's the one with Siri so I can talk to it - for the holiday. That'd be great. Kaythanksbye!"

"He's not Santa Claus …" said England. "And you should say 'amen' when you end a prayer!"

I stood up. "What do you know about praying, England? I mean, look at you!" I wish you guys could have looked! "You're sloppy drunk on my couch, at an ungodly hour, with your pants undone, and you got the nerve to tell me how to talk to God? Screw you, England."

"I don' think it's very holy for you to say 'screw you' to somebody."

"IT DOESN'T SAY THAT IN THE BIBLE!" I sighed. "Now if you'll EXCUSE me! I need to finish up my song for church tomorrow."

I sat back down on the floor and strummed a few notes on my guitar. England lazily watched, his eyelids hung at different lengths because he was drunk out of his mind.

I was on the line about how babies conceived out of wedlock are total bastards, when England interrupted my singing.

"Hey," he said, still watching from the couch. "You're singin' a song about … abstinence?"

"Mmmyep." I went back to strumming. "You should listen and learn. And keep your legs closed!"

"Hmmph." England stared hardcore at me. "So. You've never had sex before, America?"

When he said that, I accidentally strummed all the strings really loud out of shock. "Wha!" I startled. "What … what a dumb question. Of course I haven't. Premarital sex is a sin and I'm not married sooooo …"

"But you're a country. We don't get married." He shrugged. "Not unless two countries officially join, I suppose."

I went back to strumming, but I strummed in an annoyed way. "What's your point?"

"It's pretty unlikely you'll ever be married. So that means you won't ever have sex."

GRRRR! Why was England so interested in my sex life? My nonexistent sex life. What, is he gonna judge me for being a 275 year old virgin? That's like that movie the 40 Year Old Virgin but a lot more years! Though it would be cool if Steve Carrell played me … he's funny.

Anyway. It's not like I wanted to be a sinning WHORE like England and the rest of those countries who go frolicking all over the place sodomizing each other! Please.

"Oh well," I said with a shrug. "Guess I'll just go without then."

I went back to singing my song. Such an awesome song! The kids were sure to love it tomorrow! Kids love hearing about self-control and restraint and STD's and why condoms fail. It's their favorite!

"Wait a minute," said England, interrupting my song again. SO RUDE!

"Tsk. What is it NOW?"

"You still masturbate, don't you? That's a sin. Why not just go a little farther?" He looked at me hopefully. "… with me?"

"WHAT THE H E DOUBLE HOCKEY STICKS? !" I exclaimed, dropping my guitar and knocking it out of tune. Darn it, now I gotta tune it all over again because of England's dirty perverted mouth … "Okay, first of all? If I was gonna have the sex I wouldn't have it with a DUDE, okay? Because that's kinda GAY. And secondly, I DO NOT MASTURBATE!"

"The fuck? !" startled England. "You're lyin'. Everybody does it."

"Not me."

"Liar! It's natural. To have … urges …"

"Look," I said, getting really cheesed off. "I'm not saying I don't have urges. I just don't DO anything about them."

"You repress your sexual urges …" England looked disgusted. "No wonder you're so fucked in the head …"

"Don't call it repressing! I prefer to think of it as … well, I dunno. But whenever I get tempted I do something else instead like pray or read the Bible or go to Church's."

"Eh? How many churches do you go to?"

"No — Church's Fried Chicken. Mmm yeah … I love just peeling the crispy skin off and eating it by itself …"

"My God …" said England, TOTALLY TAKING THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN. "So … so you've never had an orgasm? !"

Here I am talking about fried chicken and England brings up orgasms! ORGASMS YOU GUYS! So what if I don't know what it feels like? I'm sure it's overrated. I'll take Church's Fried Chicken over that any day. No one ever got an STD from eating fried chicken! The Colonel knows what I'm talking about.

I sighed. "The Bible says lust in your heart is adultery." I set down my guitar. I suddenly didn't feel like playing anymore that night. "So I'm assuming lust in your k-o-c-k is also adultery." If you spell a naughty word, it doesn't count. That's in the Bible too.

"Damn. I had no idea you were so repressed. You have got to let me help you …"

"EEW NO! Don't you try to RECRUIT me! I know how you gays like to do that!" Gosh, they're just like the army. Like that famous poster, they both say they WANT ME! Sorry but I am all aboard the Hetero Express. CHOOO CHOOOO!

"Just explore your sexuality a little bit …"

"NO LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I looked to the clock. It was 9:00! That's my bedtime! It was time for me to go night-night.

"Well, it's getting late," I said to England, who was back to pouting on the couch.

"Um, no it's not—"

"I'm gonna get ready for bed."

England suddenly looked at me very strangely. Like … pleadingly. His eyes were like *o* Wow, was he drunk …

It made me uncomfortable. I took a step back. "What the heck is with that look?"

He squirmed a little. "Can … can I join you?"

"WHAT!" I exclaimed. "Hell — I mean HECK no you can't sleep with me! Look you went and made me cuss! Now God is gonna be pissed at me and give me bad luck."

"God will forgive you." That statement seemed all well and good, until his eyelids lowered halfway and he licked his lips. "He'll forgive any sin you commit, heh heh …"

I rolled my eyes at England's faggotry and left the room. I heard him call after me, "No! Wait! Come back!"

And I did. To toss a pillow and blanket in his face.

"What're these for?" slurred England, one in each hand.

"For sleeping on the couch, DUH!"

"Why can't I sleep with you?"

"BECAUSE!" I exclaimed. "Haven't you read the Bible? It says 'A man shall not lie with another man, for that is detestable and totally gay.'

England smirked. "Then we don't have to lie down. I can sit in your lap, or you can do me against the wall—"

"GROSS!" I yelled. "Eeew, enough of your talk of sodomy! The only reason I am letting you stay at my place tonight is because you're drunk and heroes don't let people drive drunk. It says so in the Bible, 'and ye shall not let thy inebriated neighbor take oneself home, for that is a dick move.' (Can you believe they said 'dick move' in the Bible? It's true! Check Leviticus something or other ….)

"Idiot … they didn't have cars back then."

"NO BUT THEY HAD CAMELS! And believe me. You do NOT want to drive a camel drunk."

England closed his eyes and sank into my couch. "You are hopeless …"

"Psssh. You're the pervert drunkard. You're the hopeless one."

I walked away then. I went to go do my night-night routine so I could go to bed. You know, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, getting on my jammies. When I was done with all that, I clasped my hands together and kneeled before my bed.

"Dear God," I started praying. "Are you there? It's me. America. We just spoke a little while ago, remember? Anyway, what's up? Nothing much is up with me. Except … well … England. I really need to talk you about him. I mean, I guess you already know since you're God and all, but I'm gonna tell you anyway, okay? Well, he's gay and we all know that's a sin. Can you fix him of that? Or at least … make him not come on to me so much? It's very … distracting. I mean, not like I'm tempted or anything! God no! I mean you no! Didn't mean to take your name in vain. Anyway, also make him stop drinking. Basically I'm asking you to save him and make him less gay. I know that's asking a lot but you're God so you gotta do it." I smiled. "AMEN."

I stood up and climbed into bed. "I hope God grants my wish," I said, pulling the covers over myself. "And the only dude England will love is Jesus!"

:D

X

In the middle of the night, I woke up and had to take a wicked pee-pee. My bladder was so full it was painful. You know that feeling? And it wakes you up? But you're sooooo tired and you think 'oh if I just go back to sleep it'll go away' but it doesn't. Stupid trolling bladder …

So I sighed and made myself get out of bed. I made my way down the hallway, but when I got to the bathroom, I saw that the door was closed. And there was a light on. I could see it through the crack at the bottom of the door.

Then I heard England's voice on the other side. It sounded weird. A way I've never heard before.

"Oh God," he said. "Oh God yes …. YESSSSS … fuck yeah, oh God …"

My goodness! I've never heard someone pray so … so … so PASSIONATELY before! You should have heard the way he said those words! He was practically moaning them!

"Christ — oh yeah. Shit," he said behind the door. "Oh yes, God, yes, yes, yes … Oh God …!"

I couldn't believe it! I mean, yeah, he could have left out the bad words, but still! England was PRAYING! So with so much enthusiasm! SO MUCH! Even more than me. I never whimpered my prayers like that.

"GOD YES! !" I heard him exclaim. "Fuck YES! So good, oh shit …"

Yes, yes, God is good. I guess that's why they're only one letter different, am I right?

"Fuck yeah … mmm … so close … oh God …"

Did you hear that, boys and girls? ! England was so close to being saved! Jesus was entering his heart at that very moment! Such a passionate way to accept him. I had to witness this glorious event!

So I threw open the door. "CONGRATULATIONS ENG — WHAT THE FUDGE? !"

I couldn't believe it. I expected England to be on his knees, midway through a religious epiphany. Instead, let me describe to you the horrifying image I saw: England, sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles, his erect you-know-what in his hand, stroking away! HE WAS MASTURBATING IN MY BATHROOM.

My face instantly went from :D to D:

His changed too. When he saw me he froze like O_O but then … after a few awkward seconds … he smirked. "Oh. Speak of the devil," he said. "I was just thinking about you."

"Don't call me the devil!" I shouted back. "You're the one who is doing the sinning here!"

That smirk … my gosh. I'd never seen anything like it. Such sinfulness! "Care to join me, America?"

I couldn't tear my eyes away from that …that THING between England's legs. You know. His you-know-what. Okay, I'll spell it so you can follow. W-e-i-n-e-r. No wait … i before e. You know that saying. I also learned that from the Bible.

Anyway, I just couldn't look away from it. I was like … hypnotized. I'd never seen anybody else's except my own. And to be honest, I never looked at my own for very long either. I felt like if I looked at it that made me gay, ya know? But England's … it was so hard … and flushed all red … and was leaking a little bit of clear fluid … oh my goodness why couldn't I stop staring …

There was only one thing to do in this situation. I grabbed my shower head massager … thing, and aimed it right between England's legs. And sprayed cold water full force.

"Just like when I catch the neighbors' dogs humping in my yard," I said, still aiming that cold water at his crotch. "I get the hose and spray them until they stop."

"FUCK!" exclaimed England. His whole body tensed up. He gripped the edges of the toilet and groaned.

"I don't blame you, England," I said. I still didn't let up on the water. "This is the devil's fault. The devil is inside of you and making you do these sinful things. I don't know how he got there, he probably crawled up your butt because you seem to like that sorta thing, but that's neither here nor there. What matters is getting rid of him."

"Shit," whimpered England. His head had been drooping, but he slowly raised it. He looked me in the eyes with a look I'd never really seen. Half-lidded eyes and a flushed face, staring sinfully into my soul … "Put … put it on warm," he panted. "And set it on pulse. That'll feel so good …. nnnn ….yessss …"

I immediately turned the water off. He looked disappointed. "You pervert! I was trying to STOP you!"

England was shivering now. He had little bumps all over his skin. Goosebumps. And his nipples were really hard — WAIT … is nipples a bad word? Should I have spelled that out? WAIT WHY DID I LOOK AT HIS NIPPLES TO BEGIN WITH?

"You make everything perverted," I said. "What's next? You gonna take my toothbrush and shove it up your butt?"

"Heh heh …" England panted. "Is it one of those electric ones? Those vibrations would feel really nice …"

"UGH!" I exclaimed, dropping the shower head. "You really do make everything perverted! I have to get out of here. Before I catch your gay or something."

England wrapped his hand back around his … you know. "Wait! Don't leave!"

Too late! I was already out the bathroom door. "If you continue please don't think of me!" I yelled to him. "You don't have my permission!"

"What goes on in my head is my business!" England called back.

I turned around. I popped back in the bathroom for a quick second. Just enough to see that, yes, he did continue. And to grab my toothbrush and leave. I did NOT feel safe leaving it in there with him.

Then I peed in the kitchen sink and went back to bed.

X

I woke up to the annoying sound of my alarm. AAAENNNT AAENNNT AAAENNNT! it buzzed.

I fumbled with my eyes still closed and hit the snooze button. Ahhh. Nine more minutes of peace!

I hadn't slept too good since that whole … incident with England in the bathroom. All night long I was plagued by terrible nightmares! Nightmares filled with penises! Just flopping all around! A ton of them, like a penis forest! I couldn't believe it! Freud would have had something to say about all that. I think you know what. It's pretty obvious what those dreams meant (Post traumatic stress disorder, of course.)

Nine minutes later my alarm went off again, and I had to get up. I yawned and rolled over … right into a warm body beside me. And it wasn't blubbery enough to be my whale.

No, it was England.

"WHAT THE FRENCH TOAST!" I exclaimed. "What the heck are you doing in my bed? !"

England stretched and groaned. He didn't even bother opening his eyes! He just kept laying there, right beside me, his head on one of MY pillows! "I was lonely."

"Lonely? ! You're never lonely because God is always with you. He's always watching, you know. He's like Google Earth but even better."

England opened his eyes just so he could roll them at me! GRRR! "Oh, it's too early in the morning for that shite."

"NO! You listen to me! God is always watching, okay? You should keep that in mind when you're touching yourself. He's looking at you do it!"

"Heh. Who's the pervert now?" said England like a jerk. I hit him in the face with a pillow. "Oof—"

"How dare you call God a pervert!" I yelled. "He's not watching your sinnin' like 'oh yeah I like that!' EEW! He's watching like 'Shame on you! Bad human! Get yer hand outta yer pants!'"

"God's just going to have to forgive me," said England. He threw back the covers and I noticed something very odd … "He shouldn't give me morning wood every day if he doesn't want me to have a wank."

You guys. There was a bulge in England's pants. Gosh, he just 'took care of business' last night! How often does this guy need to — well, you know! Do some … self-loving.

"That's it." I hopped off the bed. "I've had enough."

"Where are you going?"

I disappeared into the closet. I came out of it (literally — don't take that line for an innuendo! If you do it's a sin) and tossed a suit at England.

"You're going to church with me."

England held out the suit in front of him. It was too big for him, but oh well. God doesn't care what you wear to his house. What's important is that you're THERE. I learned that when my church had pajama day, hehe! Everybody wore their jammies and slippers and it was so much fun! :D

Then England tossed the suit on the bed. "I'd rather just go back to sleep. I have a nasty hangover."

"PSSSH! That's God's way of saying 'LOL THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR DRINKING EVEN WHEN I SAID NOT TO!' True story, check the Bible."

He flopped back on the pillow. "No thanks."

"It's not optional! Plus, I bet you'll like it! I'm not going to the regular boring grown-up part today. I'm going to Bible school class to sing my abstinence song for the childrens. They're gonna love it! Especially the part about herpes and how you can get it even with a condom even during not an outbreak, did you know that England?"

"No. How the hell did you?"

"Wikipedia! And you know what else is cool about the kids' part of church? They get to do all the fun stuff. Like watch Veggie Tales and make macaroni art of the Stations of the Cross or glue cotton balls to a piece of paper in the shape of a sheep and say that's the Lamb of God. HAHA GET IT? LAMB? So much more fun than singing old hymns and listening to a preacher but hey it's church, it's not supposed to be fun. That's why God makes us go. To punish us for our sins."

"I'll pass."

"YOU CAN'T PASS! If you do, you'll miss out on the best part! I always go to IHOP after church for brunch. Mmmm … their Rooty Tooty Fresh 'N' Fruity is so good it's almost a sin. You know that's why IHOP is shaped like a church, right? Because you should go there right after church to reward yourself for going with some delicious pancakes."

"I'll still pass."

All I was trying to do was save England and his drunkard sodomite self. Doesn't he understand how important this is? I remember when I was a kid, it was England himself that showed me the Bible. I remember this clearly because when he read it to me, I had nightmares all the time. Y'all ever read the Bible? It's SCARY! God's always smiting someone or horsemen are chasing you to eternal damnation or Satan's turning into a snake and offering you apples. Snakes are scary! The stuff in that book could put Stephen King and Dean Koontz to shame.

I don't know where England went wrong. I mean, he knows the Bible. He knows what it says. Yet he does all this sinning. It doesn't make sense. I had to explain it to him.

"England," I said, looking him right in the eyes. "Don't you understand why I want you to be saved? It's very important."

"Oh, here it comes …"

"It's like a brownie point system! For every person I save, God gives me a little leeway to do my own sinning. Like a give-and-take sort of thing, ya know? I get someone to accept Jesus in their life … and I can accept devil's food cake into my mouth. You get it?"

England did not look amused :/ "… that is not what I expected you to say."

"Now come on!" I went back into the closet and shut the door. I didn't want England to see me changing. He was excited in his netherbits enough as it was. "Get dressed so we can go! We need to fill you with all of God's love."

"Heh," I heard England say on the other side. "I'd rather you fill me with your thick, hard—"

"DON'T SAY IT, ENGLAND!"

X

So I drove England to church. In my big Hummer. Big SUV's are the COOLEST! I'm sure everybody is jealous of me when I drive it down the street, looking all kinds of awesome. It gets crap gas mileage, but hey, driving to the gas station is just one more opportunity to drive around and look cool! :D

I was happy as a clam, driving like VROOOM VROOOM. But England just stared lazily out the window, leaning on his arm. I dunno why he looked so sad. I mean, we both looked so good in our suits! (I don't mean that in a gay way, just that we looked spiffy, okay!)

I hummed along to my Christian radio station, "Jesus loves me yes I know … 'cause the Bible tells me so … something something … darn it, I forgot the lyrics, haha."

England kept staring out the window like a grouch. "I don't see what's wrong with just experimenting."

"Jesus loves me — WHAT!" I near about swerved off the road! "You mean experimenting with like homo stuff? !"

England shrugged. "Well, yeah. I know you think it's a sin, but all Christians pick and choose which rules to actually follow, so why not let this one slip just once?"

"NO!" I shouted. "It doesn't work that way! Look, the Bible is pretty clear about the gays, okay? I mean, think about it. Noah put two of every animal on a boat – a male and a female of each. He didn't put two dude animals on there for some big gay animal buttsex orgy, now did he? No, he put a male and female, and you know why, England?"

"To reproduce, but you're missing the p—"

"Because THEIR PARTS FIT. Like perfectly. Like puzzle pieces, or plugging something in an outlet, or a Pop Tart into a toaster. It just fits."

England finally looked at me. But I tried not to notice because I was looking forward at the road. "You know they fit with two guys too, right? I don't think it's a coincidence that not only do we have a place that fits a cock perfectly, but feels so good when you do—"

"EEEEWW!" I exclaimed. I accidentally almost pictured England's sick perverted description. "That's an exit! Not an entrance!"

He smirked. "Oh, it can be both …."

Clearly I had not gotten through to England and his sodomy-loving ways. I needed to quote more the Bible, of course! Scare him straight. Like, literally. Scare him away from penises and to … whatever girls have.

"England, let me tell you a story," I started. "From the Bible. Once upon a time, there were two cities, called Sodom and Gomorrah. They were the gay cities where all the homos lived. All day long they just made out with each other, had crazy buttsex, and listened to Lady Gaga together. All day, every day."

"America—"

"SHHH DON'T INTERRUPT ME! I told you that's a sin. Now where was I?" I hesitated. "Oh yeah. So one day, God got tired of watching them humping each other while singing about marrying the night, whatever the heck that means anyway, and sent down a couple angels. Male angels. You know what the cities did then? They tried to RAPE the angels! GAY rape! That's when God said 'GAME OVER.' He smote them, England. He smoted them so good. He lit them on fire and everybody died. It smelt like smoke and burning Astroglide, but they all went to Hell for gaying it up. You understand now?"

"No." England saw the church out the window and sighed. "You're a fucking idiot."

I turned into the church's parking lot. "Watch your mouth in the house of the LAWD! Also the parking lot of the LAWD! He owns all this property, all the way to the end of that playground over there."

I looked around and saw four parking spaces open. As a Hummer owner, I always park in the middle of four spaces, because I have a big vehicle and am special. Everyone needs to know this and they will when they can't find a parking spot because I took up four, haha!

I pulled in and reached over to put the gear shift in park. But when I did, my hand grabbed something I wasn't expecting. It was hard, but I could tell it wasn't my gear shift. I looked down and England was leaning over the middle of our seats, pressing his crotch right where my gear shift was.

He still had morning wood. And my hand was grabbing it.

:O

I held it there in shock for a few seconds. He looked me in the eye and smirked. Then I got cheesed off and pulled my hand away.

I wiped the gay germs off on my pants. "EEW! You did that on purpose!"

"Oops~" said England, sounding fake. "How clumsy of me!" He climbed out of his seat. In fact, he was crawling into mine …

When his hand reached for my fly, I grabbed him by the wrist. "DUDE! What are you doing? !"

"Just go with it."

England swung his leg, and then he plopped right into my lap. Yes, England was IN MY LAP! Facing me! Now I almost regret getting such a big vehicle so that there was room for this ..

"Look, England," I said. "I told you, I'm not gay. The only guy I will get on my knees for is Jesus. He's the only guy I want inside me. You understand?"

He sat back and fiddled with my tie. He was making that look again … horny and sinful … "That sounds pretty gay to me. But how about I make you a deal?"

"Umm … what kind of deal?"

I could feel England's morning wood pressing into my tummy. "You let me have my fun with you … and if you don't like it, I will give up gay sex for the rest of my life."

:O

"You're … you're serious, England? Are you even sure you can do that? I mean, I know how much you love the penis."

"That is how confident I am that you will enjoy yourself." He slid my tie off and dropped it to the floor. "Hell, I'll give up drinking too. I'm that sure you will love it."

"Hmm."

Now I know what you're thinking. But don't you judge me! That's God's job! And he hates it when other people do his job because that's HIS! Now, yes, gay sex with England would be a sin. Buuuuuut … if that meant he gave up all gay sex and drinking the rest of his life, it's less sins total. I mean, one sin in exchange for a lifetime of them? This is just math, you guys.

I'm not saying two wrongs make a right. I'm saying one wrong is a lot less worse than a bunch of wrongs. You can't argue with that logic, right?

I prayed to God for England to be saved. Now I had the opportunity to do it.

But then again. That actually required me to … you know. Put my penis inside of England. (That is how gays have sex, right? I'm assuming they don't just slap around their penises together like some sort of manmeat swordfight. Someone correct me if I'm wrong here.)

I'm straight and righteous. How could I possibly go through with that?

Hmmm.

(That meant I was thinking.)

Could I do it?

Hmmmmm …

(Still thinking.)

Could I really get gay with England? And like … actually put my penis inside of him?

Hmmm.

... NOPE.

There was just no way! I mean, I'm not a homo! Um, eew! Doesn't England know what that hole is really for? It wasn't meant for stuffing penises and dildos and breakable jars up there! Ugh, y'all seen that video 'One guy one jar'? It's disgusting! France lied to me and said it's about the guy who invented peanut butter and jelly together in one jar (real thing by the way! Mmm!) So I Googled it. He tricked me! That is sooooo NOT what it was about! My butt hurt just watching and also I threw up a little bit.

"I can't do this, England," I said. "Get off of me."

England didn't get off of me. Instead he jerked his hips once, grinding his morning wood into me again. Eew, I felt it! I felt his shaft again! WHOA DUDE.

I grabbed my Bible and put it in between our faces like a shield. "The power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!" I chanted.

"The fuck?" said England. "I'm not a vampire."

"Psssh, whatever! You guys both like to suck and sparkle! According to the best writer ever, Stephanie Meyer."

England grabbed my Bible and threw it in the passenger seat of my Hummer. Crap I just realized there's another definition of 'hummer.' Why the heck did they name the best SUV after oral sex? What's next, the BJ-BMW? Rimming Explorer? The Rav4 Rusty Trombone? I could do this all day but three jokes is God's limit. Also don't ask me how I know what a Rusty Trombone is. Another misled Google search … thanks France …

"Hey, my Bible!" I exclaimed. "You can't throw it! That's against … well, the Bible, duh!"

"Oh, it's fine."

"GET OFF OF ME!" I shouted, trying to push him off, but just pushing him a couple inches into the steering wheel.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

FUDGE, I pushed him into the horn! I hope no one looks this way …

Thank goodness my Hummer has tinted windows.

"Seriously, England! Get off of me! It says it the Bible it's a sin for a dude to sit on another man's lap."

England resituated himself on my lap. Yep, he just made himself real comfortable! Like he was right at home! And I felt just the slightest brush of his … you know … against my tummy again.

"It does not."

"Yeah huh!" I said. "I mean, I can't remember the exact quote. But it's probably in Leviticus. It's always Leviticus. Yep, that's right! Right by the very important passage about whether or not three ways with two guys and one girl are gay. 'And lo, a tryst between three individuals, two men and one harlot, shall not be of the faggotry unless balls touch.' Very important to remember, England."

"That's enough!" he snapped. "I've had enough of you misquoting the Bible!"

"Huh? I'm not misquoting! I mean, maybe I'm paraphrasing, but close enough."

"No, you are completely misquoting." He glared at me. "I know the Bible much better than you. I read it long before you existed. Stop lying about what it says."

"I'm not lying!"

"Let me tell you something about the Bible."

I did not like the look in England's eyes … "Uh …"

"Actually, let me tell you about what it doesn't say." England reached with both his hands and cupped my face. I froze, because it felt weird to have a dude touch my face like that. "There is not a single verse about kissing another man."

"WHAT! Yes, there is—"

I didn't get to finish. I think you know why. If you guessed because England kissed me, DING DING DING! You're right! Yep, I couldn't believe it. He pulled my face with his hands right into his. He put his lips on mine — quite passionately, I might add, he practically smashed them together — and it was gay.

I froze up in pure shock. I'd never had another dude's lips on mine before. I'd never been kissed by another guy! My eyes practically bugged off my head like O_O

Was I sinning? That's all I could think of. Really. I'M NOT GAY. I tried to remember … was England right about there not being anything in the Bible about kissing another dude? It's hard to remember now because most of the quotes I know are a mash-up of stuff I remember from Veggie Tales, Pat Robertson, and Fred Phelps.

As I pondered this, I felt something … odd. England's tongue pressing against my lips. I startled and got even tenser. Just like, locked up, ya know? Before I knew it, England had slid his tongue past my lips and it was in my mouth.

IN MY MOUTH.

A regular kiss was bad enough, but now tongue? ! This was getting a little out of hand! There definitely had to be something about using tongue in the Bible. If only Larry the Cucumber from Veggie Tales were here to advise me! (Though it's probably for the best that he isn't. Knowing sodomite England, he'd probably try to shove Larry up his butt just because he's kinda phallic shaped.)

So there we were. Sitting in my awesome Hummer in a not so awesome position. England in my lap, hands cupping my face, and making out on me. All over me! His tongue was just so … so … so aggressive! Just licking all around my mouth and sliding over my tongue, like he was encouraging me on or something. Pssh, like I was gonna return his faggotry!

In fact, what the heck was I just sitting here for? ! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME? !

After a minute or two of getting mouth-raped, I pushed his face away. We broke the kiss and England had to be gay about it by licking his lips as I pushed him off.

"THE FUDGE? !" I exclaimed. "Y-y-you can't just gay-kiss someone like that! Not without permission! NOT COOL."

England smirked at me. "Did you like it?"

"Wha … NO, IT WAS WEIRD! Plus I'm pretty sure it was a sin so thanks a lot! Now I gotta ask God for forgiveness even though it wasn't even my fault."

"Pretty sure?" England wiggled his hips on my lap again. Just to make it clear that, yes, he was still hard. Gee, thanks for the update! Ugh … "You're not actually certain? And here I thought pious, righteous America would be so sure of Scripture."

"Whaaa? ! B-b-but …!" I stammered. "I-it's not that simple! The Bible's just not black and white — well, I mean it literally is, but you know what I mean! I mean, it's not exactly clear! There's like a million different translations and versions and interpretations … plus it's just a REALLLY long book and it's impossible to memorize every line … and, and, and …"

"Shhh," England hushed. "Well, I think I remember it a little better than you. And I promise there is not a single mention about what I'm about to do."

I got a little nervous. "Umm … what are you gonna do?"

I looked down. I suddenly felt England's hands on my fly. They worked so fast, like he was an expert at undoing people's pants! (Wouldn't surprise me, knowing him …) In seconds he'd popped the button on my fancy church-going pants and unzipped the fly.

"H-hey!" I exclaimed. "That's a private area! You're not allowed to see it!"

"Can I touch it?"

I shuddered. England didn't wait for a reply. Instead he just stuck his hand right on down in my pants. I was still holding in a breath when I felt his fingers wrap around my … you know. D-i-c-k. Then he pulled it out. YES, HE PULLED IT OUT! And let it flop right over top of where he'd pushed down the top of my boxers.

"Th-th-this is a sin," I said nervously. I'd said I was frozen, but, uh … I was actually trembling a little.

"I don't recall any lines about undoing another's zipper and freeing them from their trousers' confines."

"Um, duh! They didn't have zippers back then!"

True story. Canada didn't invent the zipper until 1913 when he got tired of his pants falling off all the time. Thanks for the info, Wikipedia!

"Dear God," I started, clasping my hands together and looking up. "Please forgive me."

"For what you're about to do? !" England asked very excitedly. Creepily excitedly. He seemed like he was very much looking forward to … whatever sick perversion was in his mind! Ugh, he was probably planning this. For a long time. Lawd knows how long! Maybe even since I was a little kid! No wonder he read me all those scary Bible stories. To scare me into being too afraid to sleep by myself! So I'd sleep with him. Eew, that's all kinds of fudged up … him dreaming of keeping me like a catamite — and I, naïve and innocent, was a fag enabler without even realizing it!

... though he did wait until I was more than legal, so maybe I'm wrong :/

Still! This was weird and gay. My flaccid ding-a-ling was sitting in the palm of England's hand. There's NO WAY there's not something in the Bible about that, is there?

Grrr, I need Bible Cliff's Notes …

"So," began England, staring down at what he held in his hand. "You've never once touched yourself, America?"

"No," I said with a gasp. "I mean — I have touched it a little to clean it, like with a wash cloth, but I don't think that's a sin … OH CRAP, is it? Hey, you made me interrupt my prayer!" I looked back up. "Where were we, God? Oh yeah. Please forgive me … for what England is doing to me. And please forgive him too, for Satan has a tight hold on him. Probably a tight hold around his penis, which would explain a lot. Amen."

England ignored what I said about him. He was still looking down, distracted by my special-area. "So you really have never masturbated, eh?"

"Eew, no. That's a sin. I don't wanna go blind! Then how will I watch the 700 Club?"

"So pure …" he whispered, thoroughly creeping me out. He pulled away his hand. AHH LESS GAY. Or so I thought. Apparently he'd just pulled it away to spit on it. Then his hand returned, fingers wrapping back around my whatchamacallit, this time all wet. "This will probably feel weird to you since you've never done it to yourself, but trust me. You will enjoy it. A lot."

Sooooo at that point I was about to physically pick England up, roll down my window, and throw him out of it. Be like "SEE YA ENGLAND! DON'T HIT YOUR HARD-ON ON THE WAY OUT!" Should have done that the second he sat on my lap, really, but ehhh. He kept talking and then I was shocked and … and … SHUT UP. It's not your place to judge me. It's God's, and I'm sure he was doing plenty of that so just calm down, okay? Also I'm not gay. Just thought I'd say that again in case you were thinking it.

England saw my arms rise to grab him. He suddenly looked very desperate and said, "It's not a sin! It's not in the Bible."

I hesitated. My arms slowly fell to my sides. "I don't believe you."

"I'm telling the truth. When you actually read the Bible, you'll see I'm right."

BUUUUUURN! Ouch, dude D:

"There's no way this is okay. It's got HOMO written all over it!"

I looked down. England's hand moved. He slid it along the shaft of my ding-dong and then back up. I squirmed.

"I swear," he said. "There is not a single mention of handjobs in the Bible."

NO. WAY. There had to be! At least in Leviticus! All the crazy quotes are in Leviticus. I'm pretty sure it said something about handies … maybe I'm wrong …

Oh, Fred Phelps. Where are you when I need you?

"I wonder how long it will take you to get hard," said England, still looking very intensely at what he was doing to me. "You're so sexually repressed."

"Th-the way God intended!"

Now even though I have never masturbated myself, I have gotten hard before. It's only natural! Sometimes it just happens! Like when I first wake up in the morning, or in the shower, or when I watch the gymnastic events at the Olympics. Happens to everyone! The difference is that I don't act on it. I ignore it until it goes away. Sometimes it's hard and I have to put ice cubes in my underwear and or smash my naughty area in a door, but it always goes away eventually.

God would be proud. I'm sure he watched me doing that, looked down on me, and gave me a big thumbs up :D

But now England was ruining all my years of self-restraint. He had my perfectly innocent, virgin penis in his hand, running his wet fingers up and down it, trying so hard to make it erect.

Psssh. Like I was gonna get hard for something gay like this. I'm not all faggy like him. Maybe if England was a hot chick like Gretchen Carlson or Margaret Thatcher or Tyler Perry, then I'd get hard. But being a dude? I don't think so! Even if he's not a bad looking dude, that doesn't matter (no homo.)

That's the reason I let him. Just to prove a point. No other reason. You guys believe me, right? Yep, I was gonna show him I'm straight and you can't just recruit me to the gay side. I play for the home team. Crap, is that right? I forget how that expression goes … is it the home team or away team that's the gays? Well, whatever. I'm on the straight team. We throw absolutely no curve balls and only score home runs after we're married. (Before you're married you can only get to second base without God getting mad. Third if you're Episcopalian.)

It felt so weird to have a hand touching me there. It felt so … warm. My whole special-area was getting hot. N-not that that meant anything gay! I mean, there was friction from his fingers rubbing, and friction creates heat. That's just science. Normally as a Christian, science isn't exactly my friend, but God said we can pick and choose which science to believe in, and I chose to believe that one!

The heat made me feel so … tingly.

"You're getting hard," said England, watching closely.

"J-j-just a little! Gosh! It doesn't count unless it's a lot!"

Seriously, it wasn't that much. What, did England have a ruler or something? Jeez!

"But it's still getting bigger."

I squirmed. It just felt so hot. I'd never felt my temperature rise so much in one place of my body before! In was all centered right between my legs. Right where England's hand was still eagerly pumping my Oscar Mayer hot dog.

"You're half-hard," said England, looking pretty darn proud of himself.

I swallowed nervously. "F-fifty percent is still a failing grade, England. If you were taking a test you'd get a big fat F!"

Suddenly England's hand became faster. He gripped harder and pulled harder. He was tugging on me pretty good! He had to pause to spit more on his hand, then his fingers wrapped back around, and pumped very quickly.

"Ahh …" I gasped, clenching up.

(But not in a gay way.)

"Mmm," said England with this hungry look in his eyes. "How could you keep this to yourself for over two hundred years? You're big and thick … but not too big and thick … you're like the perfect size …"

D:

I did NOT like England giving me a penis evaluation! Even if I passed with an A apparently. It just made me think that in order to judge me like that, England must have seen a lot of penises to compare mine to. Just how many others have been in England's hand like this? !

I trembled and let out a shudder. "Y-you … haven't stopped looking at it since you started …"

England flashed a sinful grin and finally looked me in the eye. "You're completely hard now."

"… um …"

Now. Let me explain something, boys and girls. If you're thinking I must be a gay because I got an erection from England touching me with his hand, you are wrong. Very wrong. It's just because of the friction. That's just science again! Penis plus friction equals erection. Well, that was math. But you get my point. When you perverts masturbate, are you thinking 'oh yeah, I'm so attracted to myself, I can't wait to get it on with myself!'? No, you're not. You get off from the physical stimulation. (Well, that's how I assume masturbation works. If you guys really are excited about doing yourselves, disregard that.)

Well anyway. That's what happened to me. I was physically stimulated, so I was physically aroused. NOT MENTALLY. No, no, for that would be gay.

"What does it feel like?" England asked. "You've never been touched, so I'm curious what you think."

"TINGLY."

That word kinda just popped out of my mouth before I could think.

"I-I mean, hot. My crotch is sweltering — I MEAN …! Gay! This all feels really GAY!"

"If it bothers you that much that I'm a man, pretend I'm a woman." England shrugged. "I don't care. Shouldn't be too hard. Women have hands."

Heeeeey … England was right! You CAN get a handjob from a chick! And really, what's the difference? We both got hands. If you closed your eyes you probably couldn't tell the difference! Well, you probably could, since I assume guys are better at it since men know what men like but … um, anyway.

So this was a little less gay than I thought :D

England pulled his hand away. He reached down with both and unzipped himself.

… well, gee, England. If you're trying to tell me to pretend you're a chick, maybe you shouldn't whip your penis out!

He scooted and awkwardly maneuvered himself all around. At one point he leaned hard against me for leverage and I was like WTF? (That's what the fudge, not the bad version.)

Then I realized he was trying to get his pants off in this weird position. Not easy, but England, being the sodomite he is, probably had lots of practice. He got them off and tossed them in his seat.

"HEY!" I shouted. "You didn't wear any underwear underneath? ! Those are MY pants I let you borrow!"

England shrugged again. "Kind of a thrill for me. No barrier between where your cock normally rubs against. To be honest, I was hoping you hadn't washed them since you last wore them …"

"EEEEEWWW! England you're so GAY!"

"Heh. Jesus didn't wear underwear."

"Wha — huh — nuh-uh! There's no way Jesus freeballed! Ugh, you can keep those pants. I don't want them back now that they've rubbed all up against your thingy!"

"Brilliant. I hope they still have your smell on them …"

Ugh. There's no way there wasn't a Bible verse on that. If that's not a creepy sin, I don't know what is!

Now England was back in my lap. Without any pants on. Yep, his naked butt was just sitting right on my good church pants! Now I'm gonna have to throw them out too …

England moved in for another kiss. His tongue was back in my mouth, as he put his hand behind my head and held it locked there so I couldn't move without using force on him. I froze up again, but then remembered what England said. After all, women had mouths. If I closed my eyes this wasn't even gay … for all I knew I could be making out with Pippa Middleton … with her exquisite back end …

Then I felt a weird warmth between my legs. It pressed against the shaft of my entire length. Then I felt wet fingers wrap around me.

I broke the kiss to look down. So much for pretending this wasn't gay! England had his penis lined up against mine, rubbing them, with his hand wrapped around them both, pressing them tightly together. He pressed his lips against mine again as he started pumping. He stroked us together, making our man-sausages rub and slide against each other.

… now come on. That HAD to be a sin!

I pulled away, breaking the kiss again. "E-England, wait …"

I was burning up. My penis felt so hot … it was like sweating … sweating up against England's as he pumped them …

"What's wrong?"

"Th-this is wrong … it's a sin, I know it …"

"Mmm, it's not …" hummed England before pressing his lips into my neck. I felt him mouth me there, suck a little, and it felt very very weird.

So I raised my head up, trying to get away from the feeling. But I accidentally just gave him more room by doing that. Oops. He moved his lips and sucked harder, touching near about every inch of skin he could.

WAS I sinning? I had to know. I needed to know how much repenting I needed to do later. And how much God was wagging his finger angrily at me right now :/

Suddenly England released our penises. His hand pulled away and they both flopped apart. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, like PHEW. That was a bit much. While England had been doing that, I had been feeling these tingly sensations in my penis that I couldn't explain. It felt better than I'd like to admit, so I'm glad he stopped before something gay happened. (Well. Gayer.)

Apparently England only stopped because he needed that hand. He spat on it again. He stopped mouthing on my neck to concentrate, as he reached back and … hmm. Well, I couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but when I saw the face he made, I figured it out. He squeezed his eyes together and bit his lip.

"G-God, I wish we had real lube …" he said shakily.

"Okay … two things, England. First off, God would never give you lube," I said. "And secondly, this is yet another reason we're supposed to have sex with women instead of other men. Chicks make their own lube, ya know."

"God gave us spit," said England. "And it isn't as good, but it'll get the job done."

Phew. I was afraid he was gonna ask how I knew that women were self-lubricating when guys were not! If you're wondering how, it is not a perverted answer. I learned it the hard way while searching for recipes. France told me to look up one for the moistest pie he'd ever eaten, and then he laughed when I found something else. GRR he always gets me on those Google searches!

England needed a lot of spit. He spat on his hand THREE times and reinserted it in himself. See, if he was a woman, he wouldn't need to worry about that. He'd already be dripping wet, I'm sure. (Okay, his penis was dripping a little, but that doesn't count!)

As England finger-sodomized himself, I couldn't stand it anymore. This just felt too WRONG. If I was sinning, I needed to know. For reals. So I leaned over and grabbed my Bible from the passenger seat.

I quickly flipped through it, scanning for any words like 'dudes kissing' or 'handjobs' or 'frot.' Don't ask me how I know what frot is either! You know the answer. (France told me it was a frog who was a Christian! FROG plus ZEALOT equals FROT. Or so he said. Then I Googled it and was like YOU LIED TO ME AGAIN EEEEWWWWW!)

But I couldn't find any of those terms! NOWHERE! Maybe England was right? Maybe they're really not mentioned in the Bible? Soooo … does that mean we're not sinning?

It can't be …

No … no, this sure felt like sinning to me. I'll check Leviticus. There's always something crazy going on in Leviticus!

"Ah!" I said triumphantly. England was still fingering himself and only half-listening. "Found it! Listen here, England … 'If a man lies with a male as he lies with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination. They shall surely be put to death. Their blood shall be upon them.'"

Those were some pretty harsh words for gaying it up, am I right?

But England didn't even take the fingers out of his butt! Nope, he kept on pushing them in and out, starting to pant, as he said, "If there's blood, you're doing it wrong."

GRRRR! England never listens to me! That is NOT what that passage meant!

"Don't you get it, England? It says it's an abomination and we should be put to death for it!"

"That's not what it says," said England, but with heavy breath, because he was finger banging himself. "It says if a man lies with a man like he does a woman … do you lie with women like this?"

"Umm … no … you know I'm a virgin."

"Then technically it doesn't apply to you, does it?"

Tsk. England still didn't get it. The Bible isn't something you weasel your way out of with semantics and loopholes! God will know if you do that, and guess what? He'll have some loophole to send you to HELL for it!

"And you …" I said. "You're still sinning. You're not a virgin."

"True, but technically it doesn't apply to me either."

"Eh? How's that?"

England smirked. "I don't lie with women like I do with men. With women, I'm on top. But with men … I prefer to bottom."

"… of course you do."

How could I forget how much England loves the sodomy?

England finally pulled away his hand. "So America … is your conscience clear? Can you put aside the Bible for a little while, and enjoy yourself?"

"Pfft, hardly. That can't be the only mention of getting gay in the Bible."

England shifted forward. I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders as he leaned into me for leverage. "It's not … but what does it matter? Even if it's wrong, God will forgive you."

"I KNEW it! There IS something in the Bible about it!"

I knew there had to be moar! SO MUCH MOAR! I had to read it. I had to know how much I was sinning just by letting England get frisky with me!

"Where? !" I asked frantically. "Where in the Bible is it? !"

England gripped my penis again. Tightly by the base. "Umm … shit, I can't remember …"

I shuddered hard. Why was I still erect? ! I was really really really nervous, in case you couldn't tell! For two very good reasons! One, God might smite me for getting gay like he did to the people in Sodom and Gomorrah. And two, I've never done anything sexual before! How the heck was I supposed to be calm when someone put their tongue in my virgin mouth, and stroked my virgin penis, and also cupped my virgin balls? (Oh, did I mention that part? He did it a little back when he was stroking me.)

"Remember!" I yelled. "Think think think!"

England shifted back down. "Fuck where was it …" he mumbled. "… somewhere in Corinthians, I think?"

"CORINTHIANS! OF COURSE!" I flipped frantically through the Bible. "Come on, Corinthians, where are ya … Genesis, no … Deuteronomy, no ... Romans, no …"

As England lowered himself, I felt a sensation I never had before. It started out just weird. I felt myself (as in my YOU KNOW WHAT) pressing against something. Something warm and a little wet. My face was still in the Bible but I glanced up like WHAT THE HECK?

England still held me firmly by the base of my man-schtick. Guess that should have been my first clue. Because he was lowering himself down on me.

I felt myself press inside him. It probably only took a couple seconds but it felt like slow motion. I slid in as he sat down. Each inch that entered deeper made me curl my fingers harder into the Bible. My mouth hung agape. I couldn't believe what was happening. I trembled as England lowered himself the last inch, up to the hilt and he was completely impaled.

Then, just like that, while reading the Bible, I had lost my virginity.

"Ssssss …" England hissed, clenching his teeth. "God, you're thick."

I was still shaking. My innocent, never-before-touched, Christian, STRAIGHT penis was now buried deep inside another man's butt. UP THE BUTT. That … that was sodomy!

But GOD! I mean … gosh. Oops. Didn't mean to take his name in vein. I MEAN VAIN! I couldn't think straight. I guess because it isn't too straight to put your penis inside another dude.

But the feeling … I'd never felt anything like it. It was so hot. There was this tight, compressing, and did I mention HOT sensation completely surrounding my … you know. It sent these tingles, from the very tip of my schnitzel, up my shaft, and all the way up my spine. Those tingles were unlike anything I'd ever felt before today.

And it felt so good that I knew it had to be a sin.

"E-E-England," I stuttered. "I … I'm inside you."

"Mmm," he replied, leaning against my chest. "How's it feel?"

"WEIRD!"

That was no lie. I'd never felt anything like this. I'd never stuck Mr. Winky inside of anything before. Even when France told me to stick it in this hole I found in a bathroom stall once, I still didn't. I kept my innocence.

… until today, anyway.

I thought the feeling of sinking myself deep inside England's sinful hole was weird enough. But when he started moving? I was near about paralyzed from shock.

England started to ride me. The first couple movements he made were slow. My mouth was still hanging open like :O And I couldn't close it. I was in too much shock. The Bible was shaking in my hands … because I couldn't stop trembling.

England got faster. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and used my weight for leverage. He could speed up that way.

"H-h-hey!" I shouted. "Don't squish my Bible!"

I moved it and held it behind him, above his shoulders. So that I could still read it. Well, kinda. It was a bit blurry since we were moving.

England thrust down, each movement getting a little faster until he found a good rhythm. Then he eagerly, happily bounced on my boloney stick.

"Shit," swore England, though he sounded happy when he said it. "Your cock is fucking huge, God …"

The pages of the Bible crinkled loudly as I frantically flipped through them some more. That tingly feeling was getting stronger. They were starting to feel like quick jolts of … dare I say … pleasure. And I've learned from all my years as a Christian, that if it feels good, it is definitely a sin.

"AHH …!" I yelped. It was from a sudden tightening of England as he shifted a little, clamping down tight around me, but I pretended it was because I had found the right passage. I had found the right passage, for the record, it's just that the sound came from him clenching around me … "F-found it! Corinthians!"

England's rhythm didn't falter one bit. He kept on happily riding me, grabbing my shoulders as he slammed his hips down into mine over and over and over …

This is what I found:

'Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.'

For you HEATHENS that just skimmed that or worse, just skipped over it completely (that's a sin, by the way) … it said that homosexual offenders shall not inherit the kingdom of God.

HOMOSEXUAL OFFENDERS.

That … that's me! As of today, I have committed a homosexual offense! And that is letting England impale himself on my wing-wang over and over again.

"I knew it!" I cried. "England, it is a sin! It says homosexual offenders won't inherit the Earth! We're on the same side as the thieves and adulterers and male hookers! OH LAWD!"

"Ehhh … just repent," panted England.

"Just repent? ! Is that how you think it works? 'Oh, look at me, I think I'll commit all the sins I want, because I can just ask God for forgiveness later, la la la!' NO! God will judge you harshly for that!"

"I told you … just pretend it isn't gay …"

Okay. First off, God knows when you're pretending. You can't fool God! Even if you're one of the best actors in the world like Mel Gibson or Kirk Cameron, God will still know you're faking it!

And secondly … suuuuure, maybe I could pretend anal sex was straight. Girls have butts. Pippa Middleton has a nice butt, but I have already established that. Theoretically, I could close my eyes and pretend I was doing a chick in the butt instead of a dude. But it was hard to pretend England was a woman when every time his hips came down, his penis rubbed against my tummy. His hard, leaking penis …

It was getting harder to read what the Bible said. My vision was too blurry. And I was very distracted by the strange, intense feeling I was experiencing. The tingles were not really tingles anymore. They were too strong to be called by that word. Every time England thrust down on me, forcing me to enter him over and over again, I felt this strange jolt. This intense pleasure shooting up my penis. It was getting so intense, and feeling so hot, I actually started to feel dizzy. I was breathing funny too, just like England, and I knew how gay this sounded.

"I … I knew this had to be a sin …" I panted. "… feels too good to be anything but."

England tensed. The slight tightening of his muscles clamped down more pressure on my wing dang doodle, and I gasped from yet another sensation of shooting pleasure.

"Heh … guess I'm the winner of our little bet, eh?" said England smugly.

Oh … CRAP. I forgot all about that!

"I suppose I won't have to give up alcohol or cock any time soon," he said.

DARN IT. If only I had kept my mouth shut! I could have faked it! I'm sure I could! I mean, women fake their orgasms sometimes, right? I could do the opposite. Fake hating sex. GRRR! Why didn't I do that? ! How could I forget? !

… I'll just blame all these … distractions.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" asked England. I bet he could tell by the look on my face and the way it was all red and how I was breathing so hard. "Well, it's your first time. I didn't expect you to last long."

"P-p-please England," I said, though it took some effort. "If you think … I'm gonna have an orgasm from this, you're crazy."

I mean, what I did so far was surely a homosexual offense … but it wasn't as bad if I didn't FINISH …. right? ? Please say yes :/

"You are," England practically cooed. "You're almost there. I can tell."

"Noooooo …." I whined.

Then all those feelings I was having in my netherbits got even crazier. A homosexual offense was totally going on in my pants. I felt my balls tighten, and the tingly feeling in my penis was back, but different, it was mixed with the pleasure and just so … so … so weird, like something was about to happen, like it SHOULD happen, though I didn't really know what it was expecting –

… then, on one of England's bouncing thrusts down, I felt it. A sudden burst of extreme pleasure. I felt something hot and wet explode from me, and with every squirt, came another wave of this weird pleasure. England kept riding me, his hips shoving down on me. Each time he did it drove out more of the hot liquid, making my eyes squeeze shut, my fingers dig into the pages of the Bible, and the slightest popping up my hips to bury myself deeper into England … to get moar of this feeling …

It was seconds but felt like forever. Then the last of it dripped out of me. When the last drop trickled out, I sighed heavily, and slouched in the seat.

"God …" I whimpered.

I had never felt anything like that in my entire life.

Everything felt like a haze, but then through my half-lidded eyes, I saw England. Smirking.

"How was it?" he asked.

"God …" I said again. Then realized what I said. "Oh, GOD! He's gonna be MAD!"

I felt myself going soft inside England. He sat up a little and let me flop out of him. My semen trickled out of his hole and down his thighs. Dangerously close to my good church pants …

"H-hey! Don't let it get on my pants!"

England chuckled. "Sorry," he said as he wiped it with his hand.

His hand was then sticky and white. I pulled the Bible from behind him to back between us. I needed to read more about what it said about homosexual offenders. Was there any hope for me? ! My eyes read as fast as they could.

"Unf."

I glanced up and over my Bible. England was still sitting in my lap. But now he was gripping his own penis — with the hand that he'd just wiped my … uh … man-naise (get it? Like mayonnaise, except with MAN instead?) up with. He used it as lube as he started stroking himself.

"Seriously?" I asked. "You're still gaying it up in here?"

"Not fair …" he panted. "If only you get to cum."

England closed his eyes and kept stroking. Really fast too. I think he was pretty close …

I felt sinful watching him pleasure himself like that, so I went back to reading the Bible. I read the passage over again. Hmm … why does it say both male prostitutes AND homosexual offenders? Couldn't they have just said homosexual offenders? Seems a little redundant …

"Oh …" whimpered England. "Oh, fuck yes …"

I looked up again. England was furiously stroking himself. With this devilish grin on his face. Like he was really enjoying himself …

"England, I'm trying to read. Keep your moans to a minimum, please."

I resumed reading.

"OHH!" moaned England. "OhhhHHH, yes! FUCK!"

I glanced up yet again. "Darn it, England, what did I just s — holy guacamole!"

England was coming. Pretty hard too. His hand was moving so fast over himself it looked like it was just quivering. I watched, frozen in a trance, as the semen poured out of him.

"Yesssssss …." he hissed as he came. "Americaaaaaa …."

"Don't say my name while you're gay-gasming!"

Then I heard a sound. A light, wet sound. "Hmm?" I lowered my Bible and realized England had gotten some of his semen on the cover of it. "WHAT THE …!" I exclaimed. "You just got gay semen on the Bible! ON THE BIBLE!"

England shuddered hard as he slumped in my lap. He was done with his orgasm. I could tell because his penis was starting to shrivel back up.

"Sorry," he replied finally, panting hard.

"SORRY? ! Don't tell me you're sorry, tell GOD! It's his book!"

England collapsed against my chest. I tensed again.

"Not a sin," said England. "It doesn't say in Bible not to cum on it."

"WELL THAT'S A GIVEN!"

I was surely going to Hell for this! I let England do THAT of all things to the Bible? ! Is there anything more blasphemous? ! I can't think of anything! My eternal soul … it was gonna burn hotter than my penis felt inside of England's butt …

I quickly zipped up. As soon as my spent man bits were safely tucked away, I threw open the car door.

"Wha … HEY!" shouted England as I shoved him to the ground. He hit the cement parking lot on his side. "Don't fucking push me! … shit, where are my pants?"

I fell to the ground too. On my knees. That was only the appropriate position after what I had just done.

England stumbled to his feet. He still didn't have any pants on. Thank goodness no one was around at the moment to see …

When England saw me get on my knees, his eyebrows raised real high. "Damn," he said. "I know you're eager to keep going, America, but I fear I must tell you about this annoying thing called a refractory period."

I looked up and glared at England. "I'm praying."

"Oh," said England, looking pretty dumb. "And here I was hoping you'd want to try sucking my cock …"

"… forgive me Father, for I have sinned, I have – WHAT? ! Eew! NO!"

"Heh. Maybe next time."

"Who said there was gonna be a next time? !"

England glanced lazily to the Hummer. "Don't forget your guitar."

I gasped and jumped to my feet. "CRAP! My song! I forgot all about the Sunday school kids!"

D:

X

There I was. Standing in front of like twenty childrens. And their innocent, bright, wide, ACCUSING eyes. They waited hopefully and patiently as the church lady introduced me.

I had been late, but not so late as to miss the class entirely, so it was okey.

"Okay, class," said the old woman. "Let's all give a warm welcome to our special guest. He has a song he's gonna sing for us."

"Yaaaaay!" said the kids as they clapped for me.

"H-hey, kids," I said to them, stepping at the front of the class. "Who here is ready to hear a special song?"

They all got excited, shouting things like "OOH OHH" and "ME ME!" and waved their arms.

"Heh heh … okaaaaay then." I strummed my guitar for a couple notes, but then stopped.

How could I do this? My song was about abstinence. ABSTINENCE, YOU GUYS. How could I sing about that when just minutes ago I lost my virginity in my Hummer in the church parking lot? TO A DUDE?

It … just wasn't right. It was all kinds of hypocritical. I looked over to England, who was standing in the back of the classroom watching me, and felt all kinds of guilty.

My conscience was too heavy. I couldn't do this.

"Sing the song!" shouted one kid.

"Yeah, sing it!" said another.

"Umm …"

Well, I had to sing something. I couldn't just embarrass myself and run out of there! So I started a tune on my guitar …

A familiar tune by Rebecca Black …

"Seven am waking up in the morning, gotta be fresh, gotta go to church. Gotta have my communion, gotta have Christ's blood," I sung to the tune of 'Friday.' "Seein' everything, the time is goin' tickin' on and on, everybody's rushin'. Gotta get down to the PEW SEATS! I see my Christian frieeends~"

"WHOOOOO YAY!" yelled the kids. Kids love viral videos.

So I continued singing, "Kickin' in the front pew, sittin' in the back pew. Gotta make my mind. Which pew can I taaaaake?~"

In the back, I saw England face-palm. But whatever. These kids were eating this crap up!

"It's Sunday, Sunday, gotta get down on Sundaaaay! Everybody lookin' forward to the Sabbath, Sabbath! Praying, praying, YEAH! Praying, praying, YEAH! Fun, fun, fun, fun, lookin' forward to the weeke — uh, Sabbath~"

All the kids were clapping and swaying to the tune and humming along. Aww, they were so happy! :D

"7:45 we're singing in the church, hymning so good, I want time to fly. Fun, fun, think about fun. You knooow what it is! I got this, Jesus got this, my pastor is by my right! I got this, Jesus got this, now you knooow it!"

Oh, their smiling, happy faces! I guess they were big Rebecca Black fans too!

I kept singing, strumming my guitar. "Yesterday was Saturday, Saturday. To-day is Sunday, Sunday. We we we so excited. We so excited. We gonna have communion to-day!"

This was my favorite part. Just in case you forgot the days of the week, hehe!

"Tomorrow is Monday, and Tuesday comes afterwaaards~ I don't want this holy day to end!"

But the song eventually did. And all the kids clapped and I bowed.

"Thanks, kids!" I said to them happily.

But my smile disappeared when I walked out into the hall with England.

"That wasn't what I heard you practicing last night," said England.

"I know …" I sighed, dragging my guitar and knocking it all out of tune. "I didn't have it in me to sing about abstinence after what we did in the parking lot …"

"Heh. I told you. God will forgive you."

I sighed. "This was the weirdest Easter ever."

Oh yeah. Did I mention this was Easter? I'd actually forgotten until the sobering post-gasm walk of shame from my Hummer to church. When I realized it, I felt all kind of guilty. I mean, really? Of all days? Perhaps the holiest in the entire calendar? Easter was the day Christ rose after three days to hide colored eggs for all the children to find.

And I had sinful, homosexual sex on that day. Right in the church parking lot.

It was such an awkward walk back to the Hummer after that song. England walking beside me just made it even more awkward. He didn't say anything and I assumed it was because he was thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts about me. Probably replaying what we did in the parking lot in his mind over and over. It was pretty obvious he'd wanted me for a long time. There was no way he wasn't relishing this …

When we got back to the Hummer, we still hadn't said a word. I opened the door and saw my Bible on the seat. Crusty with dried semen. Which made me feel even MOAR guilty! And what was I to do with that? It's not like I could keep it in such a state! But it seemed wrong to just throw away a Bible. Semen-stained or not, it's still the Word of God. I wondered if I could clean it. What gets out semen stains? Club soba? I shall have to call France and ask …

Oh, what an awkward ride to IHOP that was! But I very much wanted to go. Nothing like some good ol' pancakes to soothe a guilty conscience! In fact, I'd gone there before when I'd gotten unwanted erections. I'd gone there to distract myself and keep from giving into my urges. All you gotta do is cover your lap with your napkin. They never notice erections that way.

We got a table and looked at the menus in silence. It wasn't until after we placed our orders that we finally spoke again.

"You know …" started England. "I'd wanted to do that with you for a long, long time."

I really wished the waitress hadn't taken those oversized menus away. They came in handy for shielding me from England …

I looked away. "I had a feeling."

"I'm so happy I could break down all those years of sexual repression for you. It was fun, wasn't it?"

I almost spit out my orange juice. "… FUN? !"

"Well, yeah. And think about how much more fun we can have now. I can teach you so much more. You know, you've got a lot of catching up to do. You're 275 years behind."

"275? ! That's my age! What, was I supposed to be having sex as a baby? !"

"Damn it, you know what I meant. You're long overdue. You should try to make up for lost ground." His eyes seemed to light up. Very sinfully. "Oh. I just thought of something. Since it's Easter, how about I dress up as a bunny, hmm? A Playboy Bunny. You could too, if you felt up to it. What do you think?"

I slammed my glass of orange juice on the table. That was all kinds of blasphemous! And totally a homosexual offense!

But before I had a chance to tell England this, he just kept talking. And he looked way too excited about this. "Oh, staying on the whole Easter theme, have you ever heard of a Love Egg? They're a sex toy that's pretty much what it sounds like. It's shaped like a little egg, but it's attached to a cord that connects to a control. It vibrates, and has different settings. If you stick it near your prostate, oh God …"

Now I slammed my fists on the table. Like WHAM!

"Enough!" I shouted. "I don't want to hear about your PERVERSIONS! Don't you get it, England? I'm going to repress what happened today and pretend it never happened."

"What? No! You can't!"

"I can and I will. Didn't you listen to me? I'm STRAIGHT."

"But … you enjoyed yourself so much today …"

"No, no!" I said quickly. "Don't mention that ever again! I'm trying very hard to repress that very disturbing fact!"

"You shouldn't repress your urges," said England with a sigh. "That's not healthy. You're going to drive yourself mad."

"Then what am I supposed to do? !"

"Just keep experimenting." There was that sinful smirk again. "… with me."

"But … but it's wrong!"

"God will forgive you."

"And it's an abomination and a homosexual offense and I won't inherit the kingdom of God and, and, and—"

"Shh," hushed England. "I told you. God will forgive you."

"Um …"

Was England right? Was it really okay to do if I just asked for forgiveness? Like a free pass? Seems awful hypocritical. Though Christians do it all the time. And it does say in the Bible that everyone will be forgiven if they repent. But … ohhh … I just didn't know! I wish I knew what Jesus would do. If he was here, I'd ask his opinion … if gaying it up with England was okay or not …

As I pondered, the waitress brought out our food. She put the big stack of pancakes right in front of me.

And oh — my — gosh. I couldn't believe it. It was truly a miracle! Right on the top pancake, in grill pattern, I saw it. If you squinted, it looked just like Jesus! Giving a big thumbs up! Could … could this be a sign?

I mean, I'd heard of Jesus appearing on grilled cheeses and tortillas and stuff like that. I think pancakes were a new one, but it hardly surprised me. I always thought those people who thought they saw Jesus or the Virgin Mary in their food were attention whores or nutcases. But clearly I was wrong!

No, that was definitely Jesus. Giving me a thumbs up.

There was no way this wasn't a sign. Could it be that he was giving me the okay to be with England?

What an amazing God :O

Never had my faith been stronger.

I was crying tears of joy onto my pancakes. I looked up to smile at England through blurry eyes, and saw him slipping the waitress a twenty dollar bill. "For the cook …" he whispered. The waitress nodded and winked at him.

"What … what was that?"

"Huh?" England looked very nervous. "What was what?"

"You tipped … the cook?"

"Uh … yeeeeah. That's what I was doing. Doesn't everyone?"

"No."

"Oh — oh well, I'm very generous. But never mind that. Look at the miracle on your pancake! I suppose you know what that means?"

"Yeah …" I said, peering closer. "You know … the more I stare at this, the more it looks like it was drawn on with Sharpie …"

"Uh … oh, i-it does? Seems natural to me."

I squinted my eyes. "Then why does it look so fake …?"

England shrugged. "God works in mysterious ways, America."

(The end!)


End file.
